The Courier
by Oleander-Tea
Summary: AU At the end of WW3, the world is in turmoil. Anarchy runs rampant, and Japan's political future is a battle between Sereitei and Hueco Mundo. Ichigo shelters Rukia, but it's becoming painfully clear that she's more danger than she's worth.. [rewritten 08/2014]
1. Prologue: Displacement

**The Courier**

**Oleander-Tea**

Summary: [AU] At the end of WW3, the world is in turmoil. Anarchy runs rampant, and Japan's future is a battle between Sereitei and Hueco Mundo, two political parties each with their skeletons to hide. Ichigo finds Rukia and shelters her, but what happens when it becomes painfully clear that she's more danger than she's worth?

Legal: All characters belong to Kubo Tite. Storyline is mine.

**Prologue: Displacement**

_If I ever get a pet bunny_, Rukia swore, _I am never letting him outside._

She gingerly shifted her weight, and the branch she was precariously perched on snapped. Rukia yelped and wrapped her tiny arms and legs around the trunk of the tree and squeezed, hard. When the gravitational force downward was finally balanced by the frictional forces of the rough tree bark against her delicate, 5 year old flesh finally balanced out, Rukia had slid down the tree by almost a meter.

_Meep!_ Peeking down over her bony shoulder, Rukia noted that she was still over ten meters above ground. Luckily for her, there was a thick, healthy-looking branch she could reach if she only extended her leg like so... Rukia spread her right leg over the branch, and willed herself to straddle the branch, all the while hugging the oak as if it were her dear friend.

Her arms burned with pain, and blood was starting to rush out, but Rukia could only wonder when Hisana was going to finally come collect her, and whether they'd be pleased or annoyed that she had done such a great job of hiding. It was late evening already, and the setting sun twinkled about the horizon, making Rukia squint. She was near the edge of the woods, and it was already beginning to be dark enough that she had to strain to see beyond her tree-friend. Rukia did not know how long she had been trying to hide, but she felt her anxiety build as she recollected the strange glint her Hisana's eyes as she told her baby sister to hide.

The two sisters had entered a brand new BMW, sleek and shiny, only earlier that afternoon, escorted by a driver and a man in a black suit. Throwing one small suitcase into the trunk of the car, Hisana had told Rukia that they were going somewhere far away from home to have a better life. Rukia had pouted and frowned, but followed her sister's instructions to behave. She was, after all, a big girl now.

_The car stopped for gas; the driver was outside fiddling with the pump and Mr. Suit was taking a potty break._

_Hisana gently woke up the slumbering child, who mumbled, eyes still closed, "Are we going to live with Byakuya?"_

_Hisana helped Rukia into a sitting position and opened her door, "Yes, we are, sweetheart. He has the money and power to protect and feed us."_

_Rukia had been born toward the conclusion of the destructive war that devastated the planet's historical governments. Like many other countries, Japan was facing a serious population decline. The military was in charge of the government at the time, and wrote an incentive plan for couples to procreate by providing a monthly stipend for families with more than one child. Hisana was already fifteen years old when the new plan was rolled out, and she knew this was the real reason her parents had decided to have another baby. Rukia lived her first two years of life blissfully unaware of the world around her, as babies generally do, in a small shack in the outskirts of Osaka. _

_On the 23rd day of the first month after Rukia's second birthday, men with sun-ripened hair and olive skin invaded their home. Rukia's mother had given the napping child to her older sister with instructions to run._

_Rukia giggled, stifling a yawn, "Plus, he's __**beautiful**__."_

_She missed the light pink that kissed across Hisana's cheeks. Rukia had only ever met Byakuya once in her life, and she was mesmerized by his perfection. Hisana had never had to ask Rukia's respect and good behavior in the presence of this man; she had always felt the obligation to play that role by the way Byakuya looked at her. Rukia's inner voice had whispered about Byakuya's strong silence and commanding presence and just the terrifying way he held his head up high… but she noticed the way he __**almost**__ smiled when she curtseyed at his feet. She trusted that not-smile._

_Hisana straightened her cotton t-shirt and helped Rukia out of the car for a stretch, "Perhaps..."_

_Rukia hopped away from the car, waking up her body. The corner of her mind registered the one other car in the gas station driving away. Hisana called her name, and Rukia turned to face the woman squatting in front of her._

"_Rukia listen," Hisana began. Her voice was calm, but Rukia noticed the tenseness in her brows and neck. "Let's play a game of hide and seek, okay?" Hisana gestured toward the woods near the gas station._

_Rukia shrugged. Maybe a good game of hide and seek would calm her sister down. She was probably nervous before meeting Byakuya for the first time in several days. She let Hisana lead her to the edge of the woods, where Hisana stopped her again._

"_You hide first," Hisana said in a whisper, "Don't go too far in, but hide well."_

_Rukia nodded and turned to leave._

_Hisana grabbed her baby sister from behind in a tight hug, "I love you."_

_Rukia giggled dismissively, "I know you do, Onee-chan, don't be weird!"_

When night fell, Rukia felt fear for the first time that day. Hisana would not leave her behind, would she? The scrapes on her arms and legs were no longer painful, but throbbed once in a while. She could hear murmurs of wild animals in the forest, and squeaked and a red squirrel scurried down the tree she resided on. Her heart was pounding faster and faster, and Rukia wanted to cry.

"Ahhhrg!" she screeched into the heavens.

Rukia ignored the flutter of wings as the birds inhabiting her tree escaped the wretched human creature dispelling her fears. A second later, she heard a voice from below.

"It's a kid," a boy's disdainful voice floated up to her ears.

Rukia's eyes bulged. _...A kid?_

"Little girl, are you okay?" It was another voice, older, softer, deeper.

Glaring downward, Rukia was annoyed that it was too hard for her to see anyone, "I'm a big kid now!"

She heard chuckling and a scoff, which only served to deepen her scowl, and the second voice saying back to her, "Yes you are. Can you come down?"

The child in the tree bristled. Was that a challenge? _Of course_ she could come down – she had gotten herself up there, didn't she?

"Yes, but I won't!" Rukia sniffed. "You are _strangers_."

More chuckling, "Ahh, yes we are. Well, then, we'll be on our way... Sorry to have bothered you! Come along, Ichigo."

Rukia heard the shuffling of feet and leaves and, quite understandably, panicked as the only humans she's met in hours trekked off into the forest.

"WAIT!"

_Thump._

"Ow..."

* * *

><p>Ichigo huffed impatiently as Urahara rushed over to the brat who just jumped out of a tree. In all his life, he had seen the destruction of war, and he was proud to admit that the most important lesson learned was that of caution. While this girl could have simply been a child in danger, he highly doubted that she was there by coincidence. Since the war ended, all sorts of people have been wandering around causing trouble of various degrees of shadiness. This little girl, no doubt young, could very well be part of the coalition to oust members of his village. And even if she weren't, she must be up to no good if she had reason to hide.<p>

He glanced over at Urahara, a commanding General in the war, stripped of his title and left out to die in a coup. Urahara seemed keen on the tree-child, and Ichigo, untrusting as ever, walked in a circle around the two, making sure no other human was around.

"...then I hid, and Onee-chan hasn't found me yet," Ichigo heard the child saying to Urahara as he finished his rounds.

Urahara tilted his head forward, the shade of his hat covering his eyes. "Does your sister have a cell phone?"

Urahara dialed the number and hung up after a few moments of silence. "You can stay with us for the night, Rukia," he then gestured toward Ichigo, who only furrowed his brows closer together. "This is Ichigo." Pause. "Don't let him fool you. He's a nice guy."

"Mm," Ichigo shrugged, though he trusted Urahara's impressions of people. No one survives for twenty years of exile with a bounty on his head without a good sense of people's intentions.

"Hi," Rukia's gaze spoke of wariness, and Ichigo felt a (very) slight sense of kinship with her. "What happened to your hair?"

Ichigo huffed and turned away, "Nothing. It's always been like this."

Urahara hid his bemused expression behind his fan and lead the children toward the village. Ichigo asked Rukia about her story, catching Urahara's eye as Rukia repeated the day's events.

Urahara had taken him out to hunt, and they had found a gruesome scene at a nearby gas station. While crime and murder, even, were not uncommon near the outskirts of the Tokyo area, Ichigo had been shocked at the mess they found. Having seen his fair share of disjointed bodies, Ichigo had never quite realized how much blood a body could hold. Though the gas station was devoid of bodies, it was painted in red, blood dripping from gas pumps. And the _smell_. Ichigo actually had to empty his stomach contents elsewhere while Urahara searched the godforsaken place.

The taste of bile bubbled in Ichigo's mouth, and he coughed.

"Do you think Onee-chan forgot about me?" Rukia asked quietly. Hopefully.

How is it that a child can believe she's playing hide and seek while her sister was murdering enough people to paint a gas station crimson? Or maybe someone had killed her sister?

Urahara spoke up, "I don't know, Rukia." There would be no mention of the bloody gas station to Rukia. "Maybe she had some urgent errands to run."

The trees in the forest thinned into an opening. Several wooden cabins appeared in view, enough to shelter twenty people comfortably with room to spare. Ichigo had lived there long enough to know the process of introducing new members to the community, and waved Inoue Orihime over. The brunette smiled pleasantly at Ichigo, and he turned his head to gesture toward Rukia. Inoue understood and took Rukia's hand.

"Hello, I'm Orihime," she said brightly. "What's your name?"

Rukia smiled at the friendly face, "Rukia."

Ichigo shuffled closer to Urahara and tried to not pay attention as Rukia stepped forward to chat with Inoue. There would be questions on identity, and most importantly, Inoue would prevent Rukia from meeting anyone high profile in the village for the first few days until she was deemed safe. Unfortunately Rukia had already met Urahara, but there were still Hirako Shinji and the other Visoreds, and, of course, Ichigo's own father, to steer clear of. They were all once high ranking military officials, but with a new government in place, anyone who once held any power at all was overthrown. So now they live here. The village had mainly turned into a habitat for orphans and lost children in the past few years though, and Ichigo had almost come to think of it as home, for the time being.

Inoue tucked a strand of golden hair behind her ears and leaned forward, the v-neck drooping slightly to _almost_ reveal luscious...

Ichigo stalked off toward his cabin. Slowly. Inoue's body had seemingly changed overnight, or maybe Ichigo was just now noticing what a woman's body should look like. Boys, after all, experience these changes sometimes long after girls do.

Inoue straightened and lead Rukia toward the girls' quarters. "Let's get those arms all cleaned up. You'll feel much better after a bath! Oh, and you can meet Karin and Yuzu too!"

* * *

><p>Dawn met Rukia with the sound of a gunshot. The young child scrambled out of bed and underneath it faster than Orihime-chan could sit up and wonder what had gone wrong. Screams were heard outside, and the door to the small room burst open revealing a man in a black suit. He silently shut the door behind him and scanned the room.<p>

"Ano... this is the girls' cabin..." Orihime-chan had stuttered, clutching her blanket to her chest.

Rukia peeked out from behind her bedskirts and saw a lopsided smile on the man's face. "Where's the child?"

"W-what child?" Orihime stammered. Rukia gulped. Was she the child they spoke of? She saw the man walk toward Orihime-chan's bed on the opposite side of the room. He threw her blanket off of the golden haired girl, who squeaked in prudence. The man chuckled, and reached toward Orihime, to do what, Rukia could not see.

"No, please..." Rukia heard. Orihime-chan sounded afraid, even to the child's ears untrained for cries of fear. Rukia didn't even have time to blink before her legs launched her tiny body at the attacker's trousers. She grabbed on and bit into his leg, _hard_.

The door to the cabin burst open the same moment the man in the suit cursed a word Rukia did not understand. Another man in a suit rushed to pick up the little girl, kicking, and screaming, in the air, as Orihime gasped, and finally screamed. One of the men slapped her and shoved her blanket into her mouth, wrapping it around the girl tightly, disabling any movement.

"Fuck!" Rukia had finally landed a kick on her captor's nose, and he unceremoniously dropped her like a sack of potatoes.

Rukia rolled on the ground, and as she was picked up again by one of the men, she saw Ichigo, Urahara, and three unfamiliar faces appear by the doorway.

"Drop her." She couldn't tell who was speaking, but she braced herself anyway. Her heart was pounding, and she felt like she would suffocate in this man's arms. The adrenaline of her surprise attack was dissipating, leaving her full of fear. Who were these men? What did they want with her?

Urahara pulled out a gun, pointing it at Rukia. Or maybe her attackers, Rukia couldn't quite tell.

"Now."

Time seemed to stop. Rukia wanted to close her eyes and hears and hide under the blankets, but the world, as it usually did, refused her requests for such comforts. She sensed movement from beside her as the man whose nose she had kicked straightened, and two gunshots went off. Rukia flew in the air. Urahara fell. She landed in someone's arms while a third gunshot went off. Rukia scrambled to her feet and looked behind her, meeting the frightened eyes of Orihime for a split second before the older girl passed out, the two men in suits crumpled by her bed, dead.

* * *

><p>There had been questions, of course. Rukia knew not who those men were, and as evident by their injuries, she had fought valiantly against them. Urahara also made the immediate effort to teach her self defense, but Rukia was only four years old, and as much as she tried, she couldn't really defend herself well, if at all. So Urahara taught her to run, to bite, and to yell, which he had hoped would be enough, at least for now. He never gave her a real gun but trained her eye with a wooden stick and newly fixed up BB gun he had confiscated from one of the other orphans.<p>

Rukia didn't mind the training so much, to be honest. It kept her mind from her sister and future brother, and as rejected as she felt that Hisana had never come for her or picked up any more phone calls, Rukia always had a childish hope that Hisana just …forgot. She was so confident in it that she had started telling everyone that she was Rukia Kuchiki, sister to Hisana Kuchiki and sister-in-law to Byakuya Kuchiki.

"Byakuya, hm?" Yoruichi Shihouin had once pondered, finger on her elegant chin.

"Do you know my brother?" Rukia's voice was small and hopeful.

Yoruichi blinked, and looked down at the child sadly. "Once upon a time I did," she said truthfully. "But that was years ago, and I'm afraid I no longer know him."

Rukia didn't notice though, that after the first moment she spoke the Kuchiki name, Urahara's training had increased in intensity. She was expected to run longer distances in less time, do more pushups, punch more bags, and yell louder. She was too young to understand a lot of things she saw and heard, for example, a very loud, animated argument between many of the grownups in the camp.

"We have to leave this isn't safe for us!"

"No we just have to get rid of _her_. _She's_ not safe for us!"

"She's just a _kid_, goddammit. Are we savage enough to let her die out there?"

"They're not going to kill her."

"How do you know?"

"Is it worth the risk if she takes us all down with her?"

All this, she didn't mind though. She didn't mind because she didn't understand, and it was probably best for her this way. She trusted Urahara and Yoruichi and even that orange haired boy who kept scowling at her. The entire time she stayed at the camp, the only time she cried was when Isshin Kurosaki, a toddler in each arm, tried to convince her to take his name instead of Kuchiki's.

"But how will Hisana find me?" she had wept fearfully.

It was a question no one wanted to answer, and they compromised on guiding her to not speak of Byakuya's name again. Luckily for the adults, a child's mind is fragile and easily shaped. A few months later, and Rukia barely spoke of her would be brother-in-law, and who could really blame her anyway? She had spent a total of four hours with him her whole life, and it had upset the grownups so much to talk about him.

Several months later, when another mystery man found Rukia again, she took out both her assailant's eyes with her little toy gun before someone shot him with a poisoned dart.

Rukia didn't know what happened to that man, but she could hear him screaming "I'D RATHER DIE" into the night before there was silence, ominous silence, for a long, long time.

They picked up and moved camp after that. Many of the adults split up into groups, and a small part of Rukia was unsurprised to find that Urahara and Yoruichi were taking her someplace different, alone. She had said goodbye to Orihime and Ichigo and his baby sisters and his dad, who, of all people, had cried at her departure. She hoped she would have more friends and less yelling in the near future, but even she knew it would be a fruitless hope.

* * *

><p><span>Notes<span>: Attempting to write again after having dropped the pen for the past few years. Review and let me know what you think!


	2. Chapter 1:  Going with the Flow

**The Courier**

**Oleander-Tea**

Summary: [AU] At the end of WW3, the world is in turmoil. Anarchy runs rampant, and Japan's future is a battle between Sereitei and Hueco Mundo, two political parties each with their skeletons to hide. Ichigo finds Rukia and shelters her, but what happens when it becomes painfully clear that she's more danger than she's worth?

Legal: All characters belong to Kubo Tite. Storyline is mine.

**Chapter 1: Going with the Flow**

She was going to be in such deep shit.

Peeking through the heavy traffic before her, Rukia poked her fingers through the cold, metal bars separating herself and the cab driver, "How much longer?"

"Thirty minutes?" he grunted. They were moving at 30 kilometers per hour, what did she expect?

Rukia was going to be late for work. Not by much, but still late. That wouldn't do.

"I'm getting out. Now." Rukia threw some crumpled bills at the driver and dashed out, hopping between cars, deaf to the stream of curses trailing her footsteps.

_I hope no one hits me, no one better __**fucking**__ hit me._ Rukia didn't want to lose her job, you see. _Maybe someone should hit me. Then I'd have an excuse for being late._

Breaks were screeching, and Rukia pushed uselessly on the hood of a cab as it forced her to stumble to the left. "WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING?"

Rukia sped off without a second glance. _Either hit me or don't, quit half assing it, you prick. Don't waste my __**fucking time**__!_

_Sidewalk!_

_Yes!_

_Still alive!_

Rukia slowed her pace as she entered the building. It wouldn't do to look like a madman flying through the financial district. She straightened her blouse and ran a hand through her hair. A tall, blond foreigner walked past her and smiled kindly. Motherly. Rukia grimaced. At a ripe seventeen years of age, she was still barely a meter and a half tall, with no breasts, no hips, no ass. Not that she ever hoped to be a _model_ or anything, but she wanted attention and power, and though she hoped that she wouldn't need voluptuous breasts for that, in the depth of her mind, she knew that some volume and curvature helped.

After all, Rukia only wanted power to spend it well. She was born during the war and has seen nothing but corruption and selfishness and, perhaps, at the root of it all, a lack of respect for humanity. Well, you see, Rukia just wasn't the type to stand by and live the consequences.

She had reached the other end of the building, and upon stepping outside, sprinted across the next street, again barely avoiding breaking a bone or three until she stepped on the next sidewalk. _Two more blocks_. Rukia slowed her pace again inside the next building, a classy restaurant this time. Ducking her head to avoid the pretty hostess in a Chinese _qi pao_, Rukia pointed inside, indicating her party's presence. Once in, she proceeded to sneak through the kitchen and out the back. Hopping down the loading dock, Rukia took an alley to the dumpster of a coffee shop. _Just a little bit longer..._

Five minutes later, Rukia briskly walked into her office building. Swiping a badge with a _terrible_ caricature of her face on it, Rukia hopped in the elevator and shot up to the sixteenth floor. _Only 3 minutes late... maybe he won't notice._ Rukia tapped her foot impatiently, missing the look of distaste in the eyes of her elevator companion. When the doors opened on floor sixteen, Rukia duly noted that she should have paid more attention to the businessman standing next to her if he worked on a floor above her own. Or if he were on friendly terms with those on floors above her own. As a lowly intern, Rukia wasn't exactly high-status, or even _noticed_, really, but she usually tried to put herself out there, be recognized, play the business game.

"Afternoon," she nodded on her way out, missing the odd glint that briefly crossed the man's eyes before the door closed.

Power walk down the corridor. Key in. Time. 4:05pm.

She was surprised when the CEO of her company walked past her with a hint of recognition in his step. He nodded at her.

Rukia wasn't sure what to think of him. She's only been working for the company for one month, but she had somehow nicked her way as working for the CEO's secretary. He seemed wise and intelligent, and above all else, extraordinarily _capable_, but deep inside, Rukia had always wondered how he had gotten so far in life.

"Hello, Mr. Tousen," she smiled politely.

Life, after all, isn't easy for the blind.

* * *

><p>"I hate that this is your last week of vacation."<p>

Ichigo's head snapped to attention at the pretty face in front of him. He smiled, reaching a hand to scratch at his hair, "Yeah, well. At least now we'll have money to spend."

Orihime put a gentle hand on top of his own, as their waitress floated over to their table with the processed check. Ichigo thanked the woman, and the periphery of his vision recognized curious surprise as a small, almost invisible, _girl_ sneaked across the restaurant floor to the kitchen. He'd seen that face before, that gait...

"-glad we met up again."

Ichigo ripped the edges of his mind, grasping at the dreams of a child, to focus around his girlfriend. "Yeah, me too."

The couple stood to take their leave. Ichigo had meant what he said, even given his lack of attention for Orihime at the moment. They had practically grown up together until...

It was funny, really, that they had rekindled their friendship? Relationship?

Ichigo remembered growing up together, in a camp, until something happened. His memory of what happened was always a little unclear as he was mainly focused on helping his father raise his two baby sisters. He remembered a girl, small and scared, with fists of fury and a kick to bruise… But one day, his father had decided it was safe to leave camp, and everyone had just… disbanded? Orihime had been adopted by a nice elderly couple whose child had also died in the war, and Isshin had taken his children and built a small clinic in Tokyo where he worked as a doctor and Karin learned about running a business and Yuzu learned to be a caretaker to a family. Isshin spent a year training Ichigo in medicine before kind of just losing it in the head. The old man would cry about Masaki, and Ichigo would look around awkwardly, barely remembering the mother he had before she was killed in the war. Ichigo secretly believed that Isshin was hiding from Sereitei or Hueco Mundo, perhaps both, because of her death.

Ichigo had then spent his father's life savings in getting a medical apprentice in a hospital, since the education system in Japan still hasn't recovered from the war. School was finally over, and Ichigo had his first residency job starting next week.

He had run into Orihime by chance, years later. She was a nurse in the hospital at which he was being trained, and when he lost his first patient, she was assigned to talk to him. The shock of meeting Orihime again atop how absolutely _atrocious_ he felt after _killing _a _person_ had scorned his normally focused mind. They had gone out for a drink, which turned into multiple drinks, which turned into...

"_Inoue-san, I..."_

"_Call me Orihime."_

"_I..."_

"_Ichigo. Please."_

_They had stumbled out of the cab into the front of Orihime's door. Ichigo couldn't remember his address, and Orihime couldn't hold her keys still enough to open her door. Ichigo had to do it for her and collapsed on her leather couch after almost tripping on a coat-hanger._

_He was surprised when Orihime crumpled at his feet, warm, soft hands on his thighs. Ichigo had wondered for a brief second how he was going to move her to her own bed, assuming she had passed out as well, but Orihime had pushed herself up, murky brown eyes heavy with alcohol. A burst of energy had hit Ichigo, particularly in his groin, and after remembering his childhood lust, he had closed his mind and welcomed Orihime's shaky hands as she pulled off his jeans. She had such a hot, breathy tongue, and Ichigo was so tired of being lonely._

_They hadn't even kissed yet._

_The next morning, Ichigo had considered slipping out unnoticed. He really wasn't that type of guy, really, it was just all a mistake, and Ichigo would get in touch with Inoue-san later that day, or maybe later that week, and if they can't be friends, they'll at least have to maintain a professional relationship, but that wouldn't happen, would it? It was all just a very bad mistake..._

"_Mnnrg."_

_Shit._

"_Uh, good morning?" Ichigo said, awkwardly._

_He'd never done this before, after all. He had dated girls before, sure, but he had a family to support and take care of and he just honestly didn't really have the time for sex._

"_Good morning," Orihime's smile had turned into a grimace, and she rubbed her eyes, further smearing her already messy make up._

"_Sorry about that," Ichigo had coughed out. "I don't __**do this**__, I promise."_

"_Then show me."_

_And show her he did. For three years._

Ichigo had often wondered what would have happened if he had been successful in sneaking out that morning. Sometimes he wondered if he should feel more mournful if that had been the case, since he wouldn't have such a wonderfully beautiful girlfriend who was also just a generally _good person_. Rarely, Ichigo wondered if he would be happier with someone else.

* * *

><p>Rukia felt like she was over-qualified for her internship at Tousen Corp. Sure, she was young, but she could balance five accounts with ease while maintaining an intriguing conversation and maybe even kick a little ass, all this at once, and she was stuck making schedules and calling clients and just doing general <em>bitch work.<em> It would have all been fine though, Rukia believed, if this internship were more significant than a stepping stone to get her name out to the top dogs in a bleak economy. Even as a teenager, Rukia knew the importance of _networking_, and she knew that when she would finally run for office, when there was a stable government to have an officer position to run for, she would need the support of the financial industry backing her up.

Tousen Corp was almost perfect for the job as it was a weapons manufacturer. The industry was the only industry to show growth throughout the long and drawn out war, and its many divisions, particularly the biological and chemical warfare segment, were now reaping the rewards of repurposing military technology to everyday life.

"Still here, Rukia-san?" Rangiku strolled in, hair perfectly mussed and hips sashaying all over the place.

"I just finalized Mr. Tousen's schedule for tomorrow. I wrote notes in for high priority meetings so he can prioritize which ones are acceptable to run late to," Rukia spoke briskly.

Rangiku nodded her approval, "You're a godsend."

_Of course I am._ Rukia hated feeling like a child. It reminded her of a sister she couldn't remember and certain blue haired teacher she didn't want to remember.

"Thanks, Rangiku-san. You have a good night," Rukia strode out of the office.

Rukia met Renji in the lobby of Tousen Corp for their daily commute home from via subway. He acknowledged her with a nod, and the two headed out. Rukia smiled, genuinely, and as was the case every day, she was eternally thankful for this boy, this man, who was probably her best friend in the world if she stopped to think about it. She knew she wasn't the most personable girl in the world, who didn't appreciate high fashion and hairspray, who could _destroy_ most men in a fist fight, who was unimaginably efficient and just plain intelligent when it came to, well, most things.

It didn't help that Rukia spent the majority of her childhood training to control herself, to manage her... Rukia still didn't know what to call it. Her power? Her coldness? But it always _burned_...

"Good day at work?" Renji said on their way to the subway station. "Lots of homework left?"

Rukia shrugged. "I just wish I were doing more."

She remembered meeting him at her apartment complex when she moved in after _they_ deemed her fit for society a mere two years prior. Rukia was almost sure that there was someone watching her at all times, and was positive that Renji was one of them, but he had slowly eased his way into her heart. It's hard to refuse Renji's open offer of friendship, and maybe more, when she had no other friends. Having been trapped at a concentration camp, of sorts, for her entire childhood didn't help either.

Rukia dully noted how lucky she was to have some sort of business or politically minded brain. It wasn't that she couldn't make friends or other people didn't like her, Rukia just didn't know how to laugh with them.

* * *

><p>Ichigo could tell something was off with Orihime when they got home. He had moved in with her for financial reasons during medical training, and she was happy to have him. It made sense, anyway, as they spent practically every night together anyway.<p>

_No, it's not like that._ Ichigo would reprimand himself. _It's just sleeping!_

He wondered often how often other couples had sex, and if he were an anomaly. After the first month or so with Orihime, he had almost lost his desire for her completely, which lead him to believe he was maturing to a romantic type of love with her rather than what a typical teenager felt for a woman as well endowed as she was. Ichigo was only eighteen years old when they first hooked up and there was no way he could have predicted the relationship to last so long. Since moving in together, they've probably had sex once a month, at the most, usually at Orihime's initiative, and Ichigo was starting to wonder where his libido had gone.

Orihime had tried to talk to him about it once, but Ichigo brushed it off. No man wanted to have this talk. Especially not with a woman who had a body like Orihime's.

They sat down on a couch, and Orihime snuggled up to him, "Ano, Ichigo..." She blushed.

Ichigo looked at her, and tried to wipe the ever-present scowl off his face, "What's up?"

"I..." she withdrew and stared him in the eye, her own beautiful brown eyes shining with determination. "I think we should get married."

Ichigo stared as his jaw, slowly but surely, dropped open.

"Ichigo...?"

But he was speechless, and there were no thoughts in his head.

The determination in Orihime's eyes was wavering. "Ichigo? What are you thinking?"

The thing was, Ichigo finally thought, she should know what I'm thinking. After all, we've been together for three years...

_Three years..._

It was a long time. It was a long time together, and Orihime was really more of a friend, rather than more-than-friends. Though Ichigo no longer knew where the bounds were.

Three years.

"Ichigo..." there were tears were pooling in her eyes. Ichigo briefly thought about how beautiful she was, and how unfortunate it was that she was crying.

He never felt like these past three years were in vain, and he doubted he ever would.

More importantly, he also doubted, and he thinks he should have realized this sooner, that he would have liked another three years with Orihime, beautiful and wonderful and patient as she had been with him.

He sighed, eyes closed, scowling, and Orihime's tears flowed out.

* * *

><p>The massive TV flicked on as soon as Rukia entered Renji's apartment. There was a press conference tonight, and a member of Sereitei was to make a "state of the union" speech, of sorts. Though not one to fall for propaganda, Rukia was well aware of the benefits of swallowing information like a sponge.<p>

"I wish you would stop obsessing over these things," Renji scowled from the couch.

Rukia had retrieved an impossibly oversized backpack from her own apartment across the hall. She whipped out a calculus text and sat down at Renji's dining table. She was enrolled in a finance and business training program geared toward intelligent teenagers who would otherwise be wasting away in school.

"What are you talking about?" Rukia had never understood this. "You've been working for Sereitei for six months now."

Renji frowned further, and opened his mouth to say something when the station returned from commercial.

"_Shh!"_

Rukia had her full attention on the television, a nimble hand scribbling down the limit definition of a derivative and mechanically drawing graphs of trigonometric functions.

"_Good evening citizens of Japan,_" a calm, pale, _beautiful_ man spoke. Rukia thought he looked familiar; she _always _thought Kuchiki Byakuya looked familiar. And sounded familiar.

_It's because you have the same last name_, Renji would always say to her whenever she brought it up. _And you could probably pass for siblings. Why _wouldn't _he seem familiar?_

And it made sense. Kuchiki's smooth, long hair, like Rukia's, was dark enough to blend into the night, and their hazy, half lidded eyes spoke of primness and power. Rukia often wondered if Kuchiki was as foul mouthed as she was off-screen.

"_-education system back in place. It's been eight wonderful years of finally being able to educate our nation's children again._"

Rukia rolled her eyes. The education system was a mess. It was hastily put in place as a measure of Censusing the population. Want a job? Give us your name, parents' names, grandparents' names. Who knew how many unreasonable arrests of Sereitei "dissentors" came about that way? Who knew how many children could not receive schooling because of their parents?

"_Furthermore, crime rate has decreased 30% since one year ago. Our infrastructure is back up and running, and our economy beginning to bloom once again._"

"Psht, crime rate has only decreased since you bastards stopped reporting _political assassinations_ as _crime_," Rukia snorted.

Renji made a noncommital noise.

Rukia finished her math homework and moved on to a macroeconomics text. She kept half an ear on the channel as Kuchiki spewed on about how even the poor were getting richer, and all of Sereitei's efforts in social reform. At least that's better than Hueco Mundo's plans to leave the poor to rot while focusing on big business and the state of the market.

Kuchiki was urging the Japanese citizens to work together, "We need support from our citizens to bring our country back together. The devastations of World War Three still linger in the air as Japan's first civil war in its history is still wreaking distress on our nation's name."

"Then stop fucking killing each other," Rukia drawled.

"It's not all as bad as you say, you know," Renji said. "There's hope for Sereitei."

Rukia rolled her eyes. She never told Renji of her past interactions with the party, of a kind, lively Kaien-dono she had loved before he was murdered before her very eyes. She never told Renji that she had killed a man, once, as a child, and that she had felt nothing but contempt for the party who spent more time killing than protecting.

_Kaien-dono... I've learned from you._

She was snapped out of her thoughts when Renji's cell phone rang.

"Yeah," he answered coolly as Rukia rolled her eyes. _Men._ "Oh... yeah, sure, as long as you need, Ichigo, I've got plenty of space... see you soon." _Click. _Turning to Rukia, he only shrugged, "Friend needs a place to stay."

Rukia's unspoken questions were answered when a scowling man opened the door a minute after Renji ended the call. _His hair..._ Rukia racked her brain. _That color..._

"This is Ichigo, Rukia," Renji motioned. "He'll be staying with me for a while."

"What," Rukia said stupidly, "happened to your hair?"

Ichigo hadn't been to Renji's apartment in years. He and Renji had been gym buddies for a few years, and Ichigo didn't know Renji all that well, not _really_, but Renji did owe him a huge favor from the time Ichigo pulled some major strings to get Renji out of jail for being a belligerant drunk. He was already at Renji's building before he called, knowing that Renji would pick up the phone and accept his sorry ass. He knew Renji wouldn't be surprised when he showed up mere minutes after speaking to him, but he didn't know that opening Renji's door at that particular point in time would forever change his life.

_It's that girl from earlier!_ His mind screamed. Ichigo would be lying if he said that he was a ladies man, as he rarely noticed or remembered girls. But this one... She was staring at him, head slightly cocked to the side, tiny as hell, with a laptop in front of her. Sitting at Renji's dining room table. _Why is she so familiar?_

Ichigo remembered to feel guilty on Orihime's behalf as some... some _random child_, really, intrigued him more than anything she'd done in the past God knows how long.

"This is Ichigo, Rukia," Renji's voice drew Ichigo's attention back to the present. "He'll be staying with me for a while."

Rukia. Was that her name? She blinked at him. _Were her eyes __purprle__?_

"What happened to your hair?" she said deafly.

Ichigo's scowling face contorted more. "Nothing," he spat. "It's always like that."

The sense of _deja vu_ was broken with Renji's howl of laughter.

* * *

><p><span>Notes<span>: I'm happy to have received the reviews I did, so please keep them coming!

I also want everyone to know that eventually, this will be IchiRuki, but that will take time.


	3. Chapter 2: Open Your Eyes

**The Courier**

**Oleander-Tea**

Summary: [AU] At the end of WW3, the world is in turmoil. Anarchy runs rampant, and Japan's future is a battle between Sereitei and Hueco Mundo, two political parties each with their skeletons to hide. Ichigo finds Rukia and shelters her, but what happens when it becomes painfully clear that she's more danger than she's worth?

Legal: All characters belong to Kubo Tite. Storyline is mine.

**Chapter 2: Open Your Eyes**

_%% 8 years ago %%_

"_Hello, my child," Kurotsuchi Mayuri smiled. It had taken him several hard years of labor, but it was finally complete. The noisy cries were proof! Proof that he had the heavenly power to create life. That humans can become gods. _

_He walked away from it, the noisy ball of too-soft flesh. He'll have to hire an assistant for babysitting purposes._

_He couldn't wait for his dissertation defense._

* * *

><p>"Rukiaaa-chan."<p>

His voice was probably an octave higher than his normal speaking voice, and it was chasing her as she ran, grating on her nerves. Rukia leapt into a wall, using it as leverage to change direction, launching herself, head first, arrow style, into her assailant's left shoulder while delivering an uppercut to his jaw.

"That's more like it," his hat shifted a bit to the right, but magically stayed atop his stupid head. His eyes hid in the shade provided by the hat, and she could swear they were fucking _laughing_ at her as his fingers massaged his chin.

Rukia ducked his punch and continued running.

"_You're small, Rukia," he had yelled into her flaming eyes. "Get the fuck over it. Learn to use it to your advantage."_

The advantage, of course, was her low center of gravity and speed. You just can't teach that.

So she turned a corner, as fast as she could, stopped, as soon as she was able, and grabbed a piece of conveniently discarded plywood in the alleyway, spinning it into his stomach. It was almost enough; he always recovered so _fast_. Rukia snuck a peek at her watch and she continued sprinting down another alley. _Five more minutes left._ How do you evade for five more minutes? How could she possibly be expected to continuously find new and innovative answers to this question, day after day, week after week, year after year?

She spied a fire escape to her left. No good. She had learned early on that her height put her at a huge disadvantage if it involved climbing easy things, like ladders and fences. Her limbs were just too short.

_Four more minutes._

Maybe she could just outrun him for the next five minutes. Rukia had always considered this strategy, but it kind of would defeat the purpose of this exercise.

_Though, actually…_

Rukia reached out to grab a lamp post, swinging herself around the corner. _Three more minutes._ An idea popped into her head, and she urged her achy legs to run faster, smiling as she heard the cadence of the chase increase with her pursuer's speed. _Two more minutes_. She passed by the next two lampposts, and on the third one, as fast as she could, arm around the post, leapt in the air, swinging a full 360 degrees, and shot out like a rocket into the surprised face behind her. As they tumbled into the ground, she heard both their watches beeping time.

"Oh thank god," she gasped, rolling off of Urahara.

After they both recovered their breathing and checked for any broken bones or deep gashes, Urahara turned to Rukia, "Creative, Rukia-chan."

She smirked to herself, but she knew Urahara knew she would was pleased by the praise. She clicked a button on her watch, and in the blink of an eye, the dark cityscape around her disappeared, replaced by a dusty room full of boxes. Tugging at what appeared to be a pull switch for a closet light, Rukia waited until the three square meter space around her flashed with an eerie shimmer that started at her body and ended in a spherical globe around her, before she stepped out and reached for Urahara's Special Blend Protein Shake.

Virtual reality had come a long ways since the time Urahara was a child. Fueled by the need to train soldiers in different environments, the government had designed not just realistic visuals, but also a new nanomatierial to go along with it. The nanomaterial itself had an on and off mode. When turned on, it could suspend a person within the globe, and the user can move his body and train his muscles in real life, reflecting the scenes in the virtual setting. Rukia wasn't sure how Urahara got a hold of these things, but he had been training in her evasive and combative maneuvers using them for almost ten years now. In addition to a strict weight lifting and running schedule, she never needed to concern herself with matters of safety in these still dangerous times. She had come out unscathed in several attempted muggings, and even one instance of attempted rape, leaving the little fuckers with much skepticism in taking advantage of small, defenseless looking women.

Though Rukia couldn't physically see it anymore, her mind's eye reconstructed the third globe in the room. A grinning figure would step out of it, stormy grey eyes twinkling with the secret to eternal happiness, but before it got too close, Rukia would blink, and everything would be normal again.

* * *

><p><em>%% 5 years ago %%<em>

_Dr. Kurotsuchi had already made up his mind, but a scientist always takes the chance to soak up as much information as possible. "Why now," he asked. "The war is ending, and this type of research is likely to lose funding. What do you intend for the future?"_

_Ichimaru Gin smiled, and it reminded Dr. Kurotsuchi of a snake, but intelligent. He picked up a small inflatable ball and gently tossed it toward a corner of the uncomfortably fluorescent room. A small child chased after it, giggling, somewhat reminiscent of a Labrador retriever bouncing after a tennis ball._

"_Don't you worry about funding," he drawled. "Focus on perfecting your soldier formula, and we will take care of the rest."_

* * *

><p>Renji fucked up.<p>

He had been trying to be a good friend and take Ichigo's mind off of his recent break up by taking Ichigo out to lunch with Rukia, but things hadn't quite gone as he has hoped. He had to almost _beat _Ichigo into submission before he agreed to spend his lunch hour with little Rukia, who had spent their previous night assaulting his hair with her words. This was, of course, before she realized the reason why he was temporarily moving in had quickly excused herself home at that point.

Rukia, to her credit, tried to make up for her lack of tact by inviting her coworker to lunch, who now sat with them at a busy ramen joint close to Tousen Corp.

"Oh hello, friends of Rukia!" her greeting was friendly and her smile reached her eyes. "Matsumoto Rangiku, pleasure is all mine!"

Renji had briefly snuck a glance at Ichigo, who was discreetly trying to cover up for almost opening staring at the same thing Renji was desperately trying to not eye.

He failed, and heard a snort from Rukia's general direction as his eyes met the most perkily enormous set of breasts he had ever seen. Renji coughed, trying to refocus his mind. This lunch would be difficult, he realized then and there. Mainly because he was sure Rangiku's tits had sucked all his brain capacity out through his eyes, and now all he could do was make nonsensical noises whenever one of the other three people seemed to ask him questions. He couldn't quite pay attention to what everyone was talking about, but it was probably background stories, how they all met, how they all ended up here, at lunch, on a random Friday. Renji had only one thing on his mind, really one person, and she was sitting across from him, and he couldn't stop his mind from yelling at himself, "_She is so fucking hot!"_

"Renji!" Rukia's voice rang out, almost shrilly, to his left.

"Huh?" Renji was almost impressed he responded with something other than, "_Why haven't you introduced us before?"_

"I was saying," Rukia said evenly. "Doesn't Sereitei allow employees to borrow cars? You can take Ichigo to help him move his stuff tomorrow."

Renji looked at Ichigo and blinked. "Yeah, I guess you didn't bring anything with you, huh."

Oops. This wasn't where he wanted the conversation to go.

"I mean, yeah, of course I can rent a car, a truck even, but I won't be able to drive it. Byakuya's got a speech to give, and I need to be there," Renji was definitely impressed he was able to craft full sentences at this point. "But Rukia should be able to drive it. She's listed as my family at work."

He glanced at Rukia, then at Rangiku, who looked between Renji and Rukia, and was about to open her mouth to ask the question before Renji cut her off.

"We're not related though," he added hastily. "Or …involved, in any other way… "

He saw Rukia roll her eyes, but she didn't elaborate, for which he was thankful. Renji always knew that she would have made an amazing wing woman for him, if he had wanted her to be one. If he had thought about it, he wouldn't have been surprised that he had never wanted that of her in the past year or so they've known each other.

Rangiku giggled, "Such nice friends you have, Rukia. Why haven't you introduced me before?" She turned and_ winked_ at Renji.

He was pretty sure his face was the color of a tomato, which, the leftover pieces of his brain had the _audacity_ to remind him, probably clashed _horribly_ with his hair. This time, he heard both Ichigo and Rukia choke into their ramen bowls.

* * *

><p><em>%% 1 year ago %%<em>

_If he didn't know better, Dr. Kurotsuchi would have thought there were two streams of steam evaporating from each of his ears._

"_I don't understand," he seethed._

"_What is it, sir?" Nemu's voice was a whisper, not knowing if it should be heard._

_He turned to glare at her, but answered the question anyway. "I can now create any organ, fully grown, but put into a man, he still dies."_

_Nemu took a sideways glance at an old man, at what used to be an old man, strapped to a stretcher. He used to scream and curse; now he doesn't._

"_What's the secret to an indestructible body?" he turned to look at the child, who averted her eyes._

"_Nevermind," he said. "I did not expect _you _to know." _

* * *

><p>Rukia wasn't the type to be paranoid, mainly because she was usually aware enough, both of the environment around her and of her own state of mind, to have an effectively accurate perception of whether or not she should actually be concerned for her own safety. Despite this, and also her lack of words for the cause of her unease, Rukia couldn't shake the feeling of being watched.<p>

_Of course you're being watched, idiot, you're outside, at a park, with lots of people…watching everything._ Her sensible side had always had rather obvious explanations for everything, but still…

She was about halfway through her weekly ten kilometer run through the park, and while she could usually make the run in well under an hour, she was falling almost ten minutes behind schedule. The pitter patter of her tennis shoes against the trail was usually a comfort to her, providing precious time to meditate and just _relax_ a little, but not today. Rukia internally frowned at herself, remembering, for the thousandth time that day, a certain Mr. Fischer who had come through Rukia's office to see Mr. Tousen for an afternoon meeting.

_You're definitely just imagining things_.

But his _eyes_. Rukia couldn't have forgotten those eyes if her life had depended on it. They were dark and stormy, with a lightning sparkle that reached deep into a person's fucking soul. Rukia had lost herself in them more times than she cared to admit, and more than once, had found a piece of herself in those eyes. Once, she had seen the essence of life torn from those eyes.

So how the _fuck_ is it possible they're plastered onto somebody else's face?

She involuntarily shuddered at the memory of Mr. Fischer's lips as he'd picked her hand up and put a kiss on it. "My dear Rukia Kuchiki," he had said, while her mouth had gaped open in shock. "It's a grand pleasure to meet you. You may call me Grant. Grant Fischer."

Rukia closed her eyes, the image of a stormy gray set of irises burned into her own eyelids, _watching her every move_. She managed to finish her run around the park perimeter without losing (much more of) her mind, and after stretching out her calves and ankles, jogged toward the open field Renji and Ichigo were working out in. Instantaneously finding her targets, she made her way toward a group of people gathered, watching in awe, as Renji and Ichigo, shirts off, shining with sweat, engaged in a friendly sparring session.

Maybe it was Rukia's memories of how she had once felt toward a certain raven haired man, or maybe her paranoia induced heightened senses. Or maybe it was something as simple as all the endorphins swarming her body after her run, or even teenage hormones. But something made Rukia quietly join two other girls who were leaning on the back side of a park bench, staring at the men in front of them, a flurry of arms and legs and dodges and grunts, muscles painfully obviously contracting and relaxing, contracting and relaxing, in rhythm with their audible breathing.

It might have been thirty seconds, or thirty minutes, Rukia couldn't really tell, of her watching these two men, entranced by them, by their physiques. But when Ichigo smirked at her, an orange eyebrow raised almost into his dripping wet bangs, she felt herself snap out of her reverie, a small blush across her cheeks that had little to do with her morning exercise.

"Oi, Rukia," there was an amused glint in his warm, honeyed eyes. "Like what you see?"

* * *

><p><em>%% 8 months ago %%<em>

_Nemu could tell her sire was smiling, though she could not physically see his face. Following his lead, she dropped her shovel, jumping into the pit and opening the coffin within it. If she felt any fear or disgust at the rotten, dismantled body inside, her face did not betray her emotions._

"_Bingo."_

* * *

><p><span>Notes<span>: I hope this chapter was a little more interesting than the previous two have been, even though it's a lot shorter, but I promise way more action for the next update!


	4. Chapter 3: Move

**The Courier**

**Oleander-Tea**

Summary: [AU] At the end of WW3, the world is in turmoil. Anarchy runs rampant, and Japan's future is a battle between Sereitei and Hueco Mundo, two political parties each with their skeletons to hide. Ichigo finds Rukia and shelters her, but what happens when it becomes painfully clear that she's more danger than she's worth?

Legal: All characters belong to Kubo Tite. Storyline is mine.

**Chapter 3: Move**

"Oi, Rukia," Ichigo was properly distracted from Orihime at the moment. "Like what you see?"

He was pleased to see that she was, indeed, staring, when she blinked and he could almost discern the tiny flick of her head dispersing her thoughts. Good thing he already gave her the one-over himself before she noticed. Rukia was still breathing heavily from her run, her chest, flattened by a tank, visibly rising and falling with every inhale and exhale. She _glistened_ in the warm colors of dusk reflecting off of a thin sheen of sweat on her body. He could see extraordinarily toned arms and legs, shoulder and _ass_ that don't come with just running and 10k every week. Ichigo had a brief thought that she could have been a fighter too, and an almost effective one at that, given her stature. When the mental image had quickly shifted from sparring with her in the park to a more private sort of sparring in the dark, he had yelled out to her, almost willing the last lingering image to trash Rukia's mind instead of his.

Rukia walked toward them now, completely ignoring Renji and he chugged some water and toweled off. She stopped halfway between Ichigo and and the park-goers still engrossed in the show.

"I don't like sloppy," she snapped. Ichigo hadn't noticed that he was grinning until he felt the facial muscles drop. "You have no control over your strength, you're too slow, and your tactics are too predictable. Maybe you can take Renji right now, and probably even somebody better, but the moment someone comes along with half a brain and some goddamn eyes you're fucked."

Rukia drew a sharp breath after her attack while Ichigo almost spluttered.

Renji snicked, "Yeah Ichigo, slow and sloppy." He paused a second, "Wait a minute; you think he could take me?"

Truth was, Ichigo knew he was better than Renji, definitely in terms of raw strength and energy. But beyond that, Ichigo was better than most people he knew. His father had done a decent enough job of training him as a child, then putting him through a variety of kung fu, karate, mixed martial arts classes as he got older, and Ichigo continued the exercise into adulthood. It was relaxing, in a way, and definitely more fun than lifting weights all day long. He had met Renji at a club once, and though they got off to a rocky start, became fast friends because they could train well together.

Plus, Renji wasn't _nearly_ as insane as that Zaraki dude.

And nobody had ever told him he lacked control.

"What the hell makes _you_ such an expert, you little midget?" Ichigo glowered.

Rukia fumed, arms flailing for emphasis, "Excuse me, _Mr. All-Brawn-and-no-Brain_, doesn't an expert to see absolutely no strategy _whatsoever_ here! Don't confuse luck with skill, you idiot."

"So you _do_ like what you see!"

"_You think I don't have half a brain?!_" Renji interjected.

Rukia balked, "Oh I didn't mean that, Renji! You've improved a lot, but he's just stronger than you-" she took her foot out of her mouth at that point and had the courtesy to look around sheepishly. Ichigo thought it unfitting of her; his first meeting with her last night, and now this, told him she was contradictory and incendiary, not apologetic.

Renji sulked. Ichigo gaped. Rukia made her way closer to the men she'd just reduced to boys within a matter of seconds.

"We should go," she whispered, then, almost as an afterthought, "I'm sorry; I shouldn't have said what I said."

Renji grunted and threw his backpack at her, full of sweat soaked shirts and towels, "You're carrying this."

Ichigo's temper was still aflame, but neither of his companions seemed keen to continue their "conversation." As they walked home, Renji and Rukia chattered about politics, and Ichigo turned to introspection. It was odd. Rukia wasn't the type to apologize and Renji _really_ wasn't the type to just take shit like that from somebody, even if she were a girl. There was something amiss here.

Maybe it was just Rukia. He couldn't remember the last time he felt anything as strongly as he did now, and also last night, yelling at Rukia. There was a deep knot inside his chest that pulled tighter and tighter when they argued, and Ichigo couldn't deter the knot nor Rukia herself using all the medical tactics he had learned dealing with unruly patients. When it happened the night before, Ichigo had thought it was due to his breakup with Orihime, that somehow his emotions were short circuiting, and instead of feeling horribly sad about Orihime, he felt extraordinarily angry toward Rukia.

"She's really very kind,"Renji had said in the morning, trying to convince Ichigo to go to lunch with her. "She's got the biggest heart of anyone I know, just give her a chance."

Lunch had turned out relatively normal, despite some awkward times of Renji staring at Matsumoto's chest. Rukia did seem more normal, and when the topic of Ichigo's living situation came up unexpectedly, Ichigo had gotten the distinct impression she wanted him to be as comfortable as possible. She had invited everyone to see a new horror flick, probably to take Ichigo's mind off things, much like what Renji was trying to do, and though Ichigo was mildly annoyed with their concern, he was appreciative enough to go along with it. After all, if he weren't here, he'd probably have to move back home, and Ichigo would only end up killing himself to avoid his father's relentless laments over the grandchildren that would no longer be.

As the trio stepped into the elevator to their apartment building, Renji and Rukia stopped arguing over whether or not the people wanted a ruler they could relate to, or a stoic face who could lead, like Kuchiki. Rukia takes out a protein shake from her backpack and downs it.

"Fifteen minutes," she said, wiping her mouth and smirking at Renji. "Rangiku doesn't like tardiness."

Ichigo snuck another quick glance at her ass as she walked into her own apartment. He must be what his idiot pervert father called an "ass man."

"Yo Ichigo," Renji scowled. "You gonna keep starin' or am I gonna have to actually kick your ass."

"I wasn't-"

"Whatever, dude. I'm gonna shower."

#

The next morning woke Ichigo with the grating sound of a blender and the worst hangover he's had in a long time.

"_Shut that shit _up," he hissed, covering his face and ears with a pillow. Man that Matsumoto chick can _drink_. Ichigo had fallen asleep or passed out on Renji's bed around 1 AM, barely after Rukia excused herself to do the same on her own bed. He was rudely kicked out of it a few hours later, by a giggling Rangiku and wobbling Renji. As he moved to the couch, he thanked god he was still drunk enough to just pass the fuck out without having to lie around listening to whatever Rangiku and Renji were up to in his bed. He did, however, have the capacity to make a mental note to not sleep in Renji's bed again until the sheets were cleaned.

"Drink this," Rukia pulled his pillow away. Ichigo blinked and mentally thanked her for closing all the blinds and keeping the lights off, "You'll feel better."

She handed him a glass of some smoothie she must have been making and carried one more to Renji's room. He, unfortunately, did not receive the same treatment as she flipped the lights on and practically screamed, "Rise and shine, Abarai, we gotta run."

"_Son of a bitch!"_ Renji's muffled complaints were choked off as Rukia seemingly forced her smoothie down his throat.

Ichigo looked at the clock and groaned. It was already past ten in the morning, and he was supposed to be at Orihime's by noon. They still had to go to Renji's office and pick up a car, and god knows how long that would take, especially when it came down to government bureaucracy.

"Ichigo, go shower at my place," Rukia strolled from Renji's room to the bathroom, dragging a naked Renji by the ear with one hand and holding onto a towel with the other. "We need to leave soon."

"Do what she says." If Renji had a tail, it would be tucked between his legs at the moment. _'Learn from my mistakes, young grasshopper.'_

The fuzzy memory of Matsumoto's early morning departure pried itself into Ichigo's head: Don't tell Rukia was the name of the game. The girl in question was hurriedly stuffing Renji into the bathroom and turning on the shower water, unquestioningly _ignoring_ Renji's state of nudity, unless… Unless this was a common occurrence for her? To manhandle Renji's naked body?

Rukia huffed as she left the bathroom door, slamming it shut, "I'm doing you a favor you big ugly baby. Do you _want _to invoke the wrath of Byakuya Kuchiki if you were late?"

Renji mumbled something incomprehensible, and Rukia pointedly chose to ignore it. Instead she turned to Ichigo and said, slowly, as if he were daft, "Shower. Now. Go."

Ichigo crawled out of the couch, and a sound not unlike what old men would make when getting up from a chair escaped the back of his throat. His head was pounding, and as he stood up with some new boxers and a towel, Rukia shoved her smoothie in his hand again.

"Drink. Trust me."

Ichigo took a tentative sip. It wasn't bad, but definitely not magical. At least it didn't taste like the weird ass shit Orihime really liked, full of wheat grass or spirulina or whatever it was. He continued drinking and let Rukia lead him to her apartment across the hall. It wasn't much different than Renji's, considering it had the same layout. The living room was pretty bare, with a couch, coffee table, and desk in view. He didn't see any décor, just the necessities. His murky mind had thought it agreed with Rukia, nothing superfluous.

"I'm not planning on stripping and bathing you," her slightly annoyed voice came from the kitchen. "You're a big boy, you can do it yourself."

"Can you just shut up for ten minutes? Please?" Ichigo scowled.

"You know it's probably a lot more difficult to hear me if you're in the shower," Rukia rolled her eyes. She was pouring some milk and what Ichigo assumed was more protein powder into a shaker. Did she wake up early to go work out?

"I hope so," Ichigo said as he finished his smoothie and stepped into the bathroom.

After his shower, Ichigo felt almost wonderful. He wasn't sure if it was just the shower itself, the rather unmemorable smoothie, or Rukia's fruity shampoo and soap, but when stepped out of the bathroom, he couldn't remember why he was so annoyed with her earlier on. Renji was now fully clothed, sitting on Rukia's couch, staring blankly at Rukia, who looked up from her laptop when Ichigo emerged.

"Ready for this?" she asked, almost gently.

"Yeah, sure," Ichigo said. What else was there to say?

The subway ride to Sereitei was unusually quiet, for Renji seemed to be lost in thought, and Rukia had brought a business text with her. They had gone into a plain looking office building, and Renji led the trio through a maze to a security desk for the keys to a small van. The entire process took under twenty minutes, for which Ichigo was thankful; he really wasn't in any mood to entertain small talk at the moment.

He was still nursing a slight headache, and this would be the first time he saw his ex (Ichigo supposed he truly had an "ex" now) since the breakup, and though he instigated the separation and knew that it would be the best for them both, his heart still ached for her. It wasn't really that Ichigo didn't love her; as a matter of fact, he would have scorched the world over for her if she were in a hint of trouble. But Ichigo was a romantic, and he remembered the way he'd felt reading Shakespeare as a teenager. Orihime was Juliet, but Ichigo was Hamlet, and he felt that Orihime deserved Romeo instead. It was just too _stupid_ and _cheesy_ a sentiment to say aloud, and he wasn't sure Orihime would understand why Hamlet and Romeo had to be different people or even why it's possible that Hamlet can still care a great deal about what happens to Juliet.

Plus, he wanted to find his own Ophelia, though she'd ideally not be crazy, and he wouldn't drive her to her own death.

On their way to the van, Rukia had excused herself for a restroom break. Ichigo thought it was painfully obvious that Renji had been waiting for this moment all morning, since he all but pounced on Ichigo the moment she was out of sight.

"Don't tell Rukia about Rangiku."

"What's the big deal?" Ichigo swatted Renji away. "It's not like you're shacking up with them both."

Renji glowered at him.

"… Are you?"

"No, but we did it once," he scowled. "Twice, actually. It was a while ago, and it probably doesn't even matter anymore, but I don't want her freaking out about this if it doesn't end up going anywhere."

Ichigo raised an eyebrow, "You _slept_ with _Rukia_?" Ichigo wasn't sure whether he was glad that Rukia wasn't regarded as a mere child by others or envious of others' experiences with her. The image of her ass walking away from him momentarily flashed across his mind's eye, surprising Ichigo. He'd always _looked_ at girls, sure, but they rarely made an impression past a few minutes.

"Yes, but the circumstances…" Renji trailed off. "Look, it just didn't work out, okay? Just keep your mouth shut about Rangiku."

Ichigo didn't know how Rukia could have missed it, considering Renji and Matsumoto were flirting all night previously, "Sure, okay, whatever."

Renji's gaze shifted from Ichigo's face to somewhere over his shoulder. Ichigo took this to mean Rukia had returned from the restroom, and turned to hand over the keys to their car.

"Call me if you want a ride back to the office," Rukia gave Renji a slight squeeze of the forearm and walked away. Ichigo caught Renji's face as it twisted into an ugly grimace before he shook it off. If Ichigo knew the right thing to say at the moment, he thought he would have liked to offer Renji those words, but he certainly didn't know the whole story, much less what would make Abarai Renji _feel_ better.

He settled on a rough "See you tonight" before heading out after Rukia, who was thankfully quiet for the duration of the ride to Orihime's, only breaking the silence to ask for directions.

"I'll just… wait here?" Rukia said uncertainly as she parked the car next to Orihime's apartment building.

"Sure," Ichigo looked at her, almost willing her to provide some feminine insight to what he should be expecting upstairs.

Rukia met his gaze, eyes flickering lightly. "I don't know your story," her voice was barely above a whisper. "But sometimes you have to really hurt your loved ones to do what's best for them."

Ichigo looked away for a moment and clambered out of the car. He thought he walked slowly up the stairs to Orihime's apartment, dreading the tears that were likely to greet him on the other side of her door. When he finally reached them, he knocked, though the key jingled in his pocket next to Renji's key.

Orihime had clearly been crying when she opened the door, but she put on a bright face anyway, which only seemed to pain Ichigo more, "Hello Ichigo."

He tried to smile, so she wouldn't think he was angry with her, "Hi."

"Come on in," she had a poor imitation of her happiest smile plastered on her mouth.

Ichigo walked in to his old apartment to see many boxes lining the walls, with Tatsuki Arisawa seething in a corner, sitting on one of said boxes, "Oh, hey Tatsuki, what's up?"

"Orihime told me that if I had nothing nice to say," Tatsuki spat. "To keep my mouth shut."

"Ah, yeah okay, I probably deserve that one," he conceded, though a childish part of him still hurt from it. Tatsuki was his friend before she was Orihime's friend, as whiney as that sounded.

"I put all your things in these boxes here," Orihime gestured at wall by the door. "I'm… I'm moving as well. This place just has so many memories…"

Ichigo was next to her in seconds, before the first tear fell from her beautiful eyes. He knew Orihime like he knew his little sisters, and now more than ever, she reminded him of Yuzu and her first heartbreak. He didn't know whether to hug Orihime or simply get the hell out of there, and he hated himself more than ever for it. Tatsuki pulled her away, glaring at Ichigo.

"Just go, Ichigo," Tatsuki said, her voice sounded resigned as Orihime had buried Tatsuki in a tight embrace. "I'll look after her."

Ichigo quickly stacked a few boxes together and pushed them out the door. He'll have to make a few trips, but it was probably for the best at the moment to avoid Orihime.

"Thanks Tatsuki," he mumbled, hiding his eyes under his hair. "And… Orihime. I, uh. I really am sorry. I just... You deserve better, you know?"

Orihime didn't look up, but Ichigo could hear a sharp intake of air. She was probably crying harder. Shit. Tatsuki pointed a finger at the door violently mouthing, "_Leave._"

Ichigo obeyed and shut the door.

He kicked the stack of boxes toward the elevators, sighing a breath of relief he didn't know he was holding. It hadn't been the worst encounter of his life, but probably a top five. He was thankful Tatsuki, tomboyish as she was, knew how to handle these matters, and probably provided more comfort for Orihime than he ever could, especially at this time. Knowing this, though, didn't keep his conscience from kicking his ass for leaving Orihime like that.

"Fuck!" he yelled when he was finally outside the building.

The late summer's day was beautiful; a light breeze whispered secrets around him and the sun seemed to smile sweetly on his cheeks. The world, as it seemed, didn't care for Orihime's suffering or Ichigo's guilt.

Ichigo picked up two boxes and carried them toward Rukia's car across the street. He eventually realized that he couldn't see her in the driver's seat, and it wasn't because she was too short. After reaching the car, he looked around skeptically and checked his phone, finding no signs of her. He called her number, and after ringing a reasonable number of times, he got her voicemail.

"Fucking great," he muttered, feeling like an idiot. He walked his boxes to the sidewalk and put them down. Sitting on the curb, he rested his head on an arm, turning his head just so…

Ichigo jumped up. The passenger side window had a bullet hole through it.

"FUCK." This day just fucking gets better.

Looking inside the car, he found no trace of blood or Rukia's belongings, and the bullet sat harmlessly etched into one of the seats. Maybe she had left before the gunshot through the window? His boxes forgotten, Ichigo started running down the street, phone dialing Rukia's number over and over again, yelling her name.

It must have been a mile later when Ichigo finally stopped running. Not really because he was tired, he just realized the futility of the exercise, though it made him appreciate the era before cell phones and how worried parents must have been should their spawns be late for whatever reason. Ichigo breathed out a frustrated sigh and headed back to the car, taking another route. Pulling out his phone again, he dialed Renji's number, but before he could put the phone on his ear, he heard a distinct set of steps behind him.

"I have a gun pointed at you. Do not turn around."

"What the fuck?" Ichigo's mind raced at the possibilities.

"How do you know Rukia Kuchiki?"

"I… What's it to you anyway?" Ichigo was finally getting fed up with the infuriatingly difficult morning. "What do you want from me?"

Nothing was making sense right now.

It didn't help as he heard more steps behind him, a few yells and what seemed like punches and kicks being thrown, and then a fucking _gunshot_ go off, for which Ichigo ducked but did not dare turn around.

"_What are you doing you idiot? Run!_" Rukia's voice rang out.

Ichigo's temper boiled over as he swirled around to face her, arms wild but prepared to throw as many punches as necessary, "_What are _you_ doing? What the fuck is this?_"

Rukia had her back turned to him, but she was _holding a gun_ pointed at a rather nondescript man in sunglasses.

"How the fuck am _I_ supposed to know? And get the hell out of here!" Rukia spat back, and then turning her attention to the man, she _shoved him with the gun_ toward an alleyway. "Who the fuck are you?"

Ichigo did not get the hell out of there and instead followed them. Rukia stopped moving behind a dumpster, which Ichigo thought was possibly too stereotypical of a place for this kind of thing, whatever it was, to go down.

"Who I am is none of your business," the man said. Everything about his demeanor screamed a calmness that sent chills down Ichigo's spine.

Rukia sent him a left hook to the jaw before Ichigo could blink. "Who. Are. You."

The man started to speak again, but Ichigo didn't hear what. He would later recall this portion of the day's events in slow motion as Rukia took a step behind her, toward Ichigo, eyes widening with fear, the same time Ichigo heard shuffling behind him. Instinct had instructed him to duck again, but Rukia had taken a second step, leaping off the ground directly into him, knocking him sideways.

"_MOVE_-" she never got a chance to finish her sentence.

Ichigo heard three gun shots beating to the sound of his heart. _Bang. Bang bang_. He remembered feeling his abdomen explode in pain, and two voices screaming in unison before losing consciousness.

#

Notes: A little Ichigo centric this time around, but at least there was drama, and there was excitement! Right? Right.

I know these characters aren't all true to canon, but I think given their backgrounds, particularly Rukia's, it kind of makes sense. If we take canon Rukia, subtract the Byakuya Kuchiki influence, and add in some Kaien (a sense of responsibility and caretaking, though I think those are pretty natural Rukia traits), Urahara (wiliness), and Yoruichi (being comfortable in your own skin) early on in life, I think this is a much more likely outcome anyway. Let me know how you feel about that, and any other aspect of the story!


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